Far away… in a house by the sea

The gentle sound of waves lapping along the shoreline seemed to lull me into a perfect relaxed trance, as the lightest of breezes made itself felt along my exposed skin. A pleasant haze was on me, the peace of losing myself to the scenery, and thinking of nothing. Getting to experience that was very, very pleasant.

My eyes focused as I started coming back to the present, the golden sun-rays lighting up the waves with a million hits of light. It looked like it was going to be another beautiful morning. The sound of the sliding door behind me opening was a little startling, before I felt strong arms wrap themselves around me.

“Breakfast was delicious, babe. Nearly as tasty as you.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, as he kissed my neck, his stubble scraping a little. It was a rough, coarse feeling, but I kinda liked it.

“Tonyyy, stop teasing me…”

I turned, wiggling in his grasp, laughing a little as he kissed me. Both of our hungry tongues exploring each other’s mouths. I could feel my nipples spike up in arousal underneath my bra, and the light sundress I was wearing, my needy body immediately growing hot again at the prospect of sex. We made love nearly every night, explosions of dopamine filling my head as he bred me, fucking me raw. Our kissing was only interrupted by the sounds of crying coming from the crib, just inside the door.

Our lips parted, eyes meeting, before we both laughed. New parenthood was difficult, but nothing could compare to the earth altering bliss that you feel when you look at your child. Even the tired nights and the difficulties that plague these early years, while stressful, become deep bonding experiences; the family that weathers them together, with patience and care, finds their love blossoming more spectacularly as its roots spread deeper and deeper.

“Duty calls. I bet the little guy is just getting hungry.”

“Can I watch?”

I playacted a mocking, shocked reaction as I punched my husband in the arm.

“Don’t you have to get to work, you pervert!?”

He just laughed and squeezed by body to his, the compression and all the sensations reminding me of my breasts, and my smaller, womanly shape in contrast to his masculine body.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You know it’s all just a distraction in between the real highlight of my day.”

“Oh?”

“Getting to spend time with my gorgeous, fun, and very, very sexy wife.”

“Ughhh, shut up!”

I pushed him away, so embarrassed, but not so secretly loving the praise he was laying on me.

“Two out of three of those are just talking about how I’m good looking!”

“Hmm, as though you don’t love it? Honestly Abby, sometimes I think you really have a praise kink.”

At that, he grabbed me, pulling me close to him as I let out an excited squeal, whispering all kinds of compliments in my ears in his deep voice as he kissed me again and again. Each time he told me I was pretty, I was smart and charming, he whispered how much he loved me being his wife, calling me his, I couldn’t help but melt. His touches were so considerate, so pleasurable, so attentive; knowing every little sweet spot of his wife’s perfect body. My eyes were practically rolling into my head with errant pleasure when he let me go, only for my hand to reach out and grab the bottom of his suit jacket before he walked away.

“H-hey… can we… just before you go?”

He laughed as he scooped me to my feet.

“You’re absolutely incorrigible, Abby. So soon, after what we did this morning? You’re going to get pregnant again.”

“Yeah, well… I was thinking…”

The blush on my cheeks was immense as he held me, his smile telling me how excited he way to hear whatever I had to say.

“I… I’d really like that actually. B-being pregnant again. Carrying your child.”

He just laughed before kissing me again, as I felt myself melt even more.

“You’re sure it’s not too soon? I don’t want to stress your body, if you need more time…”

“N-no. I’d really like it. I’m ready for child number two.”

“Abby, I love you. I love you. I love you!”

He kissed me again, before he made his way out the door, wishing me farewell. Just as soon as he’d left, he stuck his head back in, shouting one last message.

“I’m thinking tonight I’ll make us a really special dinner then, and maybe we’ll start REALLY working on baby number two.”

He left laughing to my furious blush, as I just stood in the fading whirlwind of the morning.

“Honestly…”

Composing myself quickly, trying to ignore how aroused I was, I stepped over to the crib and picked up the small bundle that lay within, and carried him out onto the balcony over-looking the sea. Sitting down, feeling the sunlight on me as the wind blew my hair just a little, I unbuttoned my dress and let it fall away, before I slid off my bra too.

Cute cries came from the swaddling clothes, the baby I held excited and happy, as he latched onto the pink of my nipples and began to suck. I sucked air through my teeth, that strange, sensitive feeling of pressure and slight pain, before the compression started to feel natural, the hot sensation of milk rushing into my baby’s mouth.

He had a serene look on his face as he fed, and my heart seemed to melt in completely new ways as I gazed at his cherubic appearance. It wasn’t the hot, romantic rush that filled me with a heavy desire and longing, the type of love I had for Tony. Rather it was the true bliss, the endless, protective affection, like a wholesome obsession, that a loving mother feels for her child.

“Little Noah…”

I smiled, lovingly, as I looked at the baby I was breastfeeding, enjoying the inner feelings of love just as much as I enjoyed the outer feelings that just came from breastfeeding. After some minutes of hungrily feeding, Noah seemed to be sated. He cooed just a little, before he drifted off into a contented nap. Ever so carefully, so as not to wake him, I carried him back to his crib, settling him amongst the soft sheets and plush toys that adorned the space. With Tony gone to work, and Noah peacefully sleeping, the house seemed to fall into a gentle quiet.

Now it’s just me…

I quietly tidied up the dishes from breakfast, and spent a little time cleaning, before heading upstairs to the master bedroom. It was a large room with a luxurious bed and expensive yet tasteful decorations, as the sun streamed in through the open window. Peering outside, I was met with that same view of the sea, totally unobstructed and private, stretching all the way to the horizon and the golden sun that hovered above it.

I don’t think I’d ever seen a room with such a perfect sea view before all of this. And to think, now it was all mine. Well… it was Abby’s, at least.

A strange phantom smile seemed to cross my face, that if anyone had been watching may have struck them as peculiar, before I had the urge to go to the closet. This was a big house, ideally situated with its views and privacy, and of course featuring a lavish walk-in closet. It was meant to be divided for his and hers, although I had to confess that “my” clothes had begun to spill over into his side of the room too. Not that Tony minded too much, really he adored spoiling his perfect wife, almost as much as she loved spoiling him in other ways.

I glanced at Tony’s clothes, the expensive suits, and then some casual wear too, high quality leather jackets, classic denims, Chelsea boots. He really, really had style. When I was a guy I would have maybe even been jealous, wanting to look that cool myself.

Well, it’s not like the option isn’t open to me. Any time I want to wear these clothes, I’ll just skin Tony and wear them with the body to match. Playing the husband sometime would be a lot of fun, for a change of pace. But then…

Isn’t it even more pervy, even more forbidden, and even more fun to play the wife?

I let my fingers run over the fabrics of the dresses that adorned Abby’s side of the closet, the wholesome cottons and linens, and then the classier silks and satins she had too. Just as stylish as Tony, if not more, sat Abby’s clothes, her elegant dresses and heels, mixed with tasteful designer casual wear and luxury make-up.

Stepping towards the mirror, I admired the reflection that stared back with a satisfied smirk. The top of my sundress was still unbuttoned, my naked breast exposed, before I undid the final few buttons and let it fall to the floor. Pregnancy and breastfeeding had taken Abby’s typical C-cup breasts up to indulgent D-cups, and knowing they were full of milk made me wet just thinking about it.

I greedily squeezed them, before rocking back and forth on my heels a little and giggling as I took in my reflection. My name was Abby, and I was a five-foot six blonde housewife with my hair done in a cute side ponytail style. My skin was a flawless creamy white color, while my hips were wide, perfect for childbearing. Together with Tony we’d just welcomed the birth of our son, and at twenty five years old my youthful body had very quickly recovered from all the strains of childbirth. My eyes were a bright, almost powder blue color, and everything about my vibe carried a wholesome purity tempered with loving experience.

I turned around, admiring my ass, slapping it a little just to see it shake a little and to feel the sting. I knew I was every inch the woman you’d love to show off to your parents, and the woman who’d make other men jealous of your relationship. Perfect wife material, who could be totally classy in the streets, but your personal slut in the sheets.

I pulled my cheek, feeling it hurt for just a moment, before it seemed to stretch unnaturally, appearing like a mask. I let it go and within seconds, Abby’s pretty visage was the perfect cover on my face again. I laughed, even to this day amazed at my powers.

It will never stop being crazy to think that underneath the skin of this idealized white picket fence housewife can really be me, a runaway college boy.

I posed in the mirror, enjoying the narcissistic admiration I felt as I admired the body I’d stolen, as I thought about the events that had lead me here. It felt almost like a lifetime ago now, that heart-breaking day as I left my life as Alex behind forever. I’d used Grace’s hot body to seduce a truck driver, letting him eagerly follow me into a dingy motel room, excited to have sex with such a gorgeous young woman. Instead of getting the night of his life though, he just became my new vessel, and my ticket out of town.

A part of me had thought about how hot it would be to use Grace’s body that way, experience such loose sex, roleplaying as a shy girl gone wild for a night with a burly truck driver, but I couldn’t bring myself to steal her virginity. She’d woken up and walked safely back to the apartment, before I got out of town that very night.

Paranoia had kept me going, trading skins at truck stops to go in at times almost contradictory directions, subtle changes to throw off any type of pursuit. Eventually, once I’d gotten far enough away, I moved into other types of life. I became a down on his luck young man, working in a construction site, a pensioner tending to an old garden, a frazzled young woman working as an administration clerk. I was a small town football manager, a budding astronomy student, and a trainee hairdresser. I bounced between lives, playacting as the skins I wore, never staying for more than a week.

It was fun, and quite a safe way to live really. I was living stealthily, never doing anything out of the ordinary, nothing to incite suspicion. I learnt a lot too, seeing so many types of life, even as I felt no ownership over anything I was doing. For a time, it was very, very rewarding. But it was also exhausting, the near constant moving, and the fear of being caught, and most of all, the lack of a feeling that anything I was doing mattered too much.

Eventually, I just wanted to find somewhere to rest. A life that was comfortable, one hidden from suspicion, one where I could lay low but still enjoy myself. Something domestic, somewhere I could have a lot of fun. A life I could wear for a few years at least. That was when I’d found Abby. I’d rolled into this town driving a delivery truck, offloading produce at the local supermarket. I was smoking, strangely enjoying the drivers cigarette habit, and one totally alien to me, when I’d seen her.

Her smile was perfect, the cute blush and flirty way she talked on the phone to her boyfriend seeming like she was having so much fun.

No, wait… not her boyfriend. Her husband…

Was what I’d thought, as the glint of her diamond wedding ring caught the light. I’d spent a week as a jeweler, I knew how to identify quality when I saw it now. That ring must have been worth thousands and thousands. Her sundress, so wholesome, hugged the curves of a body that was full of explicit feminine charm, while her face, her hair, her eyes, all came together to take her beauty to the truly stunning level.

I listened into her conversation as she walked through the aisles, my skinwalker enhanced hearing filtering every word she said from the general noise. Talking about family plans, talking about her newborn son, talking about all the fun they were still having despite the chores and struggles of forming a new family. If she was this positive, and seemed to be getting on this well with her husband, her relationship really had to have been ideal.

It only took me a few minutes to decide she would be my new skin. At the very least, it seemed her life would be more wholesome that the delivery driver who’s skin I was currently riding around in, the highlight of his life being scoring a celebratory eight ball when his paycheck came in. I knew I’d made the right choice as her memories flowed into me, her face tightening as her skinsuit shaped me into her form, and as I drove her land rover into the driveway of her beautiful coastal home.

I’d been looking for a comfortable life to settle into, one above suspicion. Abby and Tony had money, that was for sure. Tony’s job was a high position in finance, yet he never really talked about it, preferring to keep conversation with his wife fun and light. Whatever the specifics, it left the two with a happy life, and Abby able to live as a housewife, while her husband was totally smitten with her and craved all sorts of intimate time with her. Noah, the baby, was sweet, and provided the perfect cover. No one would ever expect a college boy turned skinwalker to steal the life of a young mother and housewife. Abby’s skin was the perfect disguise, the ideal hideaway, her cute family providing the best cover to put me above suspicion.

At least, that was how I’d thought about it at the start.

I blushed a little as I pulled her cheek unnaturally again, revealing her face as a mask, then let it settle back. I had a decision to make.

Abby’s life may have been the ideal hideaway, but it wasn’t just that. The more time I spent in her skin, the more I got attached. Tony really was the best husband a girl could ask for, caring and attentive, confident and fun, good with a joke while being capable. I genuinely couldn’t believe how perfect he seemed to be. A part of me thought I should try and learn from him, as a man, so I could be that kind of husband someday. The rest of me realized I much preferred how it felt getting to be his wife, and all I needed to do was stay inside her gorgeous, ultra womanly skin.

Noah too… it was strange. I thought I would just use him, almost as a prop to help me hide from hunters. But the more I spent with him, heard his little laughs, felt him suck on my boobs as I breastfed him… the more I grew to love him as my son. Wearing Abby’s personality, her charming, feminine grace and happy outlook, was so addictive, and the feeling of love she felt for her son was stronger than any street ****. Of course I was growing attached, all the rich dopamine from her point of view flooding my system as I experienced loving a child from the perspective of the mother.

Now, I had a decision to make. I pulled Abby’s cheek one last time, seeing the uncomfortable shifting of the face I’d come to regard as mine revealed to be just a living mask I was wearing. I’d realized that if I wore a woman’s skin for a month straight, I would begin to have her periods. As grossly exciting as it was for a man to experience something like that, it also meant all I needed to do to avoid them was take off Abby’s skin once a month, and I’d never have to deal with one of the most painful aspects of being a woman. However, if I could have periods, that meant I was fertile. And that meant I could have a child…

I bit Abby’s plump bottom lip as I thought about it. I’d already gotten so deep into her life. I’d come to love her son Noah, as if he was my own (And inside his mother’s skin, wearing her soul, he arguably was). Equally, I loved her husband, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t been fucking him every night as he moaned the name Abby and treated me totally as his wife. Should I… should I get pregnant? Should I steal her second pregnancy, and get to experience what it was like to carry a child? No guy should know how that feels, but inside the skin of the blonde housewife I’d taken as my own, I couldn’t help but feel the attraction to something so deeply forbidden…